


Clapping in the Nose Bleeds

by dls



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (that was a pun), 5+1, At Team Cap's Expense, Civil War Team Iron Man, Consequences, Crack, Failed Fundraisers, Fundraisers, Gen, Humor, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Punching Steve Rogers in His Perfect Teeth, Salty + Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 21:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12396615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dls/pseuds/dls
Summary: Since their inglorious return to the United States, the Avengers Initiative was barely scraping by on the meager salary dictated by "bureaucrats who had never spent a day in the field" - as their fearless leader would grouse. They decided to take matters into their own hands.Or: 5 Fundraising Ideas That Didn't Work for the Ex-Vengers and the 1 That Did





	Clapping in the Nose Bleeds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oky_Verlo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oky_Verlo/gifts), [WickedWitchOfTheWeb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedWitchOfTheWeb/gifts), [divinecrone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinecrone/gifts), [WonderCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderCat/gifts), [DaughteroftheSilverMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughteroftheSilverMoon/gifts), [schiannath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schiannath/gifts), [PeaceHeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeaceHeather/gifts), [2Cute2BeCis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Cute2BeCis/gifts), [lytheros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lytheros/gifts).



> This is a silly and salty (the best combo!) fic I wrote as a "thank you" to the readers of [If You Had This Time Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10920276/chapters/24286317), which reached the 100,000 hits milestone today! I am blown away by the responses I have received and thank you all so much for choosing to spend your time in this little universe of mine. ❤
> 
> Inspired by the slew of comments about wanting to punch Steve. ;) 
> 
> Beta-ed by [Arboreal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arboreal).
> 
> References/Quotes   
>  Title from "Thunder" by Imagine Dragons.

**One.**

Clint was the first to volunteer, suggesting a day of golfing with the famous Hawkeye to raise some money for upgrades.

The building they were staying in was an old CIA training center, outfitted with equipment that was decent but outdated. No moving targets in the range and no technology to create virtual climates. Clint missed the Compound and hated its owner with equal ferocity.

Scott set it up. Supporters would donate for a chance to be randomly selected as the winner. At $10 for an entry, they should be able to raise the $75,000 needed to revamp the archery training grounds in no time. Avengers branded products were often sold-out so there was obviously a demand.

On the first day, Clint's website received hundreds of comments. Scott's cheer had quieted to a frown as he scanned the page.

_Golf? Booooooooring._

_You'd have to pay me to hang out with a fake superhero like Hawkeye, he's using a weapon from the dark ages._

_Instead of golfing with strangers, shouldn't you be spending time with your family? I feel sorry for them._

Clint swore, working up a good rant when Scott silently highlighted a comment. Clint's jaw closed with a click that rattled his teeth.

_Don't be, we're happier now that he's gone. Plus, it's not like he ever spent time with us anyway._

It was the most popular comment with the highest number of replies.

_Fuck him, you guys are better off without him!_

_Good riddance!_

_Too busy saving up for a shooting range to pay child support. What a dick!_

Clint slammed his fist into the monitor.

*

Scott took down the website later that day. Not a single entry, and they were already operating at a loss now that they had to replace the monitor and Clint's hand required stitches.

A week later, a letter from the family court arrived, summoning Clint to appear before a judge in order to explain his missed child support payments.

 

**Two.**

Wanda's idea was simple, much like her mental capacity.

Magic had been her ally since the day she joined HYDRA and it would be the solution to their current financial struggles. Her skills were far more advanced than any of the imposters performing at birthday parties or sold-out showrooms.

Steve designed the flyers for her, an impressive scene of Wanda floating in the air above a riveted crowd in black and white with red accents in her eyes and swirls around her fingertips. The tasseled bottom edge included her phone number.

_A Mind-Bending Experience with the Scarlet Witch: Your Kids Will Never Be the Same._

They posted the flyers at various cork boards they had seen in coffee shops, community centers, and grocery stores. With the quinjet off-limits for non-Avengers outings, they were forced to advertise locally. At least New York was a large city with an accessible public transportation system.

Wanda sighed as she sprawled out on the lumpy couch in their living room. Her feet ached from walking around town today but her efforts would soon pay off and a new couch – a leather sectional like the one at the Compound – was at the top of the list.

"What the hell were you thinking?" The door slammed against the wall, the thin wood cracking under the force, and Natasha was towering over Wanda in three quick strides and brandishing a piece of paper.

Wanda frowned, unhappy with Natasha's tone and what was in her hand. "Is that my flyer?"

Natasha gritted her teeth, crumpling the drawing of Wanda's face in her fist while looking like she would love nothing more than to do the same to the real Wanda. "Your flyer landed us on the news." She spat the words like daggers as she stalked over to the television. There was no voice-activated system installed and they had misplaced the remote weeks ago.

_"Eye witnesses report that the Scarlet Witch appeared pleased as she pinned up these announcements threatening to invade our children's minds unless she receives $500 per family in each of the following suburbs–"_

_"–Accords committee takes public endangerment very seriously, especially from a volatile individual such as Wanda Maximoff, who has claimed, by our estimate, hundreds of lives for the roles she played in Johannesburg, Seoul, Novi Grad and Lagos. An investigative panel is–"_

_"–though not signed, several experts have pointed out the similarity in style to other drawings done by Steve Rogers. Is it possible that Captain America condones this atrocious behavior?"_

Wanda could only stare at the screen as Natasha switched among the five channels they had. Red sparks shot from her fingers as they tapped rapidly against the armrest. "They're twisting my words! I don't hurt children!"

"They don't know that!" Natasha seethed. "And you stupid–"

The smell of burning plastic filled the air. Wanda looked down in horror at the melting polyester cover of their couch, yet another item they couldn't afford to replace. Natasha threw her hands up in the air and screamed.

 

**Three.**

Sam stared at the original Falcon Wings through his phone's display, wincing slightly as he took a photo. Logically, he knew they were just parts, nonfunctional ones at that. Emotionally, it felt like saying goodbye to an old friend. He hoped whoever purchased them via the classified advertisements website would value them as much as he did.

The listing was created with a few clicks and a short description of the pair of wings that had been a part of history; a true collector's item.

An inquiry popped up almost instantaneously.

_Can you get me a date with the Black Widow?_

Rolling his eyes, Sam deleted that message; at least it meant people believed he was the Falcon to ask about his teammate.

_Falcon Wings? How about Cap's shield? That I would buy! Where is it anyway?_

Steve never got his shield back, even after the mess with the Accords was settled. Stark Industries had claimed ownership of Captain America's signature weapon and the Avengers were declared personae non grata on any Stark properties outside of official Avengers business. There were hefty fines associated with any violations, as they learned the hard way when they had first returned.

Sam ignored that one too, scrolling through his inbox with increasing frustration that reached its limit when he spotted an email from the website's administrator.

_Violation of Terms and Agreement: Sale of Goods by Non-Owner._

His phone started ringing and Sam knew with a certain dread that it would be a representative from the United States Air Force. Dimly, he wondered if Clint, with all of his legal troubles, could recommend a lawyer.

 

**Four.**

Scott chose a do-it-yourself crowdfunding website.

His attempt was both the most and least successful of all the efforts thus far.

Successful in that he hadn't broken any laws or caused additional damages.

Unsuccessful in that he received zero contributions and only one comment.

_Anyone know this guy?_

 

**Five.**

Natasha's lips curved into a pleased smile as she watched the bidding for a dinner with the Black Widow tick upward steadily as clock counted down. A same-day online auction was the perfect platform for someone as sought-after as she was.

For an estimated three-hours of her time, Natasha had won the Avengers $2,000 – enough to replace the couch Wanda singed and pay Clint's fines, with some leftover for a few bottles of the Russian vodkas she liked. One of the small indulgences in this life of secrecy and significance.

With a bounce in her step, Natasha left to meet Clint in the training area, who had been insufferable and could use some good news. There was no hurry, she had plenty of time before the arranged dinner date. It wasn't as though she needed to preen for a fan who would undoubtedly be amazed simply by her presence.

Later, as she pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the restaurant, Natasha regretted throwing the match against Clint. It had seemed like a good idea at the time but now the soreness in her right shoulder and the bruised ribs limited her range of motion. The restaurant was half-full and a quick scan revealed most of the patrons were coworkers unwinding at the end of the day.

The hostess was friendly, if a bit too chatty about how exciting it was to finally meet the Black Widow. Natasha tolerated the attention as they made their way toward the line of booths in the back.

A man, utterly ordinary in his non-designer glasses from the pharmacy rack, waved awkwardly when he saw them approach.

Natasha hid her grimace behind a bland smile; this was going to be a long night. "Hi." She turned to dismiss the hostess with a nod and ended up with an elbow slamming into her temple. Only years of training enabled her to roll with the fall and assume a crouched stance as she surveyed her assailant.

It was the hostess, whose average looks belied her exceptional combat skills. She moved soundlessly toward the back exit.

"Agent Romanoff." The man slid out of the booth, his movement suggested training but no time in the field. "So glad you could make it."

Natasha froze as she recognized his voice. He was one of SHIELD's technicians, someone who handled operations in the background. "Happy to be here." She answered cautiously, eyeing the other patrons in the mid-sized and mid-ranged restaurant.

Surely whoever was behind this plot would not be as foolish as to carry this fight out further in a public area where everyone was armed with a smart phone. One call could alert the police and one video would go a long way to identifying their organization.

"Let's see about changing that then." An elderly woman stood up from her seat, her gait as smooth as her skin under the wig. Another SHIELD agent, one that Natasha had been on a couple of missions with and hadn't heard from since–

"The fall." The realization felt like a blow to the chest, knocking the air out so her words were nothing more than a whisper.

"Ding ding ding!" A tap against her shoulder and a hand pivoting her around. "Now where was that quick thinking when you released our files to the public?"

Natasha looked into the face of yet another former partner, the scowl on his face the only warning she had before a knee rammed into her abdomen.

This was going to be a long night.

As she attempted to defend herself against a roomful of ex-SHIELD operatives, Natasha realized with a sort of hysterical amusement that the credit card payment to the auction site was probably going to be declined.

 

**One.**

Natasha's hospitalization had put everyone in a foul mood, exacerbating their already unstable financial situation and increasingly precarious legal troubles. Through a small stroke of luck in the flood of their misfortune, Natasha's injuries were extensive but not severe. The medical bills, however, were both.

It was time for their leader, Captain America, to step up.

Steve wanted to host an event, both to garner some good will with the public and capitalize on his popularity. People used to pay hundreds of dollars to attend an event with the Avengers and it was clear they had been there to meet the Star Spangled Man with a Plan, especially the military-types who shook Steve's hand for a bit too long and the aging housewives who caressed his biceps.

The proceeds would go toward the Avengers Initiative, which was as just and worthy a cause as any other, including, but not limited to, curing cancer or feeding children. There would be no point in eradicating a disease or nourishing the next generation without the Avengers protecting the them from superpowered threats.

With his background in boxing and dedication against bullying, a self-defense class was the obvious choice. Steve wondered wistfully how different things could have been for his pre-serum self if he had been taught how to throw a punch properly. For one, it would definitely have saved on the wrappings for sprained wrists.

_Punch with Captain America - fighting for what's right!_

Predictably, the demand was high. So extremely high that Steve had to add ten more sessions, spread over five weekends. A small part of him regretted not charging more than $5 a person but it wouldn't do to appear greedy or full of himself.

Tickets to the Stark Expo started in the four-digits and Steve was done catering to the rich.

The first weekend rolled around and Steve was mending a frayed seam on his battle suit when Sam practically ran into the door frame to shove his phone at Steve's face.

"Sam!" Steve chastised.

"You need to see this!"

Steve tensed at the urgency in Sam's voice. "Do we need to assemble?"

"No–"

"–then what's going on?" Steve frowned, setting down the needle and thread. "You know I have the class in fifteen minutes."

"It's about your class." Sam grimaced. "I think it's better if you just see it for yourself."

Steve peered at the screen; the sign-up page already loaded. Everything seemed perfectly in place. "I don't–" Then he saw it.

 _Punch Captain America – fighting for what's right_.

"I can't believe no one caught the typo!" Sam muttered, raking a hand across his jaw.

Steve thought it was far more likely that someone had tampered with it and said as much. "People are not paying money to punch me, Sam."

Sam's response was to scroll down and show Steve the flurry of rather enthusiastic - and vicious - comments.

_Show of hands, anyone else kinda really want to punch him?_

_Me XD_

_I want to punch him in his perfect teeth._

_I want to slap him, too!_

_I seriously want to punch him in the face_

_God I wish I could just slap him and then ignore his existence._

_I'm in! Can we use flails, because we might hurt our hands. Or maces- that would be good!_

_Can we slap him with his shield? Vibranium might shake some sense loose._

The last one had one reply.

_Spiderman here! Mr. Stark said you guys can borrow the shield so you don't hurt yourselves punching a super soldier. He's the best!_

**Author's Note:**

> [dls-ao3.tumblr.com](https://dls-ao3.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Nice Work if you Can Get it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404472) by [AnonEhouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse)




End file.
